


Wounds of the Past

by TigerMoonBETA



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Dungeon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Friends With Benefits, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Nonbinary Asra, Other, Self-Hatred, Unrequited Love, implied pain kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 05:15:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15017414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigerMoonBETA/pseuds/TigerMoonBETA
Summary: Shackled to Asra in the dungeon below the coliseum, awaiting their trial, Julian can’t help but think back on what they used to mean to each other.Based on Asra’s route. And that One Paid Scene. You know.





	Wounds of the Past

**Author's Note:**

> hope this is okay! recently got into the arcana and was looking for inspiration to write again.
> 
> also just wanna say the game devs confirmed asra is non binary and his relationship with julian wasn’t abusive so please keep that in mind thank you

They’re in a dungeon, shackled together in the dimly lit space below the coliseum, and they don’t even have to strain to hear the uproar above. Stomping feet, citizens screaming in demand of revenge, a chaotic maelstrom of fury and excitement.

And of course it’s now that Julian feels the reality of the situation crushing down on him.

 

The weight of his actions slams full force into the hollow of his chest and he sucks in a shaky breath.

It seemed the two of them put together never learned. They thrived in making impulsive decisions- but only in each other’s presence. When Julian had burst into the garden, and his eyes locked with Asra’s, there was no stopping the words that tumbled from his mouth. The ones that condemned him and Asra together for the murder of the count.

 

Shame and regret pricks at the doctor’s eyes, but he sneers them away, pinching something fierce the bridge of his nose.

Why now he’s choosing to let these feelings bubble and spew- why now he’s choosing to remember what they used to mean to each other, he doesn’t know.

 

How they used to stare. Some stormy purple eyes that he could get lost in and he gags at the sentimentality of it all. How Asra would find just the way to handle his advances and return them, leaving Julian poking and prodding for more. How it was a game they played. They both knew it, and they both chose it, and now in the present Julian knows he cannot look back on himself and curse because it was both a choice they made together.

He thinks of the times Asra would leave him burning red to the tips of his ears and the sweet, sweet stability of holding his hand. And how Asra would roll his eyes and click his tongue while Julian blathered nonsense like a fool, but in private would push him against the wall and mutter things just as foolish into the crook of his neck.

 

Julian pressed more, more, and Asra gave more, more. The two drank each other up.

He remembers the countless times Asra weaved his unfairly smooth hands into his auburn hair and tugged, as he sent Julian on his knees to the floor- how much of the doctor’s blood had been spilled in the name of their happenings? How many bruises that he watched fade?

 

Swallowing thickly, Julian peers from the corner of his eye to his cell mate, paranoid the less than appropriate thoughts are leaking through his head and are permeating the air. It’s ridiculous of course. The magician is looking off in a daze or maybe in deep thought. Not at him.

 

But it was more than that.

Unspoken, yes, but they were both wholly aware.

When Julian moaned, when Julian keened, and hissed and begged- when Asra’s hypnotizing eyes lit up at the sight. There was always something more.

 

‘I love you,’ Julian whispered, and Asra froze while wiping the snot and tears from his face.

Either he pretended not to hear or he chalked it up to the other being frazzled and still coming down from his high. Asra brought him a cup of tea and one for himself and they sat together in silence.

 

It wasn’t to say Asra never cared for Julian. He knows by the way the magician tended to his wounds, caressed his face and planted soft kisses to his forehead, encouraged him to sleep more and made him tea and kept him company and asked afterward ‘are you okay?’.

Caring for one another was a bittersweet catch that came with their mutual satisfaction. But Julian knew Asra would never be so bold to call it love. Simply because Asra did not love him in return and there was no use in falsehoods.

 

If it was bittersweet then, it’s mostly bitter now.

It wells up Julian’s throat, a searing, uncontrollable pain. It creeps up his face and then his eyes are burning and he hastily wipes the tears as they begin to spill.

 

There’s no indication in sound but it’s some damn magical thing he swears, the aura or ridiculous intuition, because Asra shifts. Asra faces him and tilts his head for a better look because Julian is trying to hide.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

The doctor curses and bites the inside of his cheek, swearing colorfully inside his thoughts.

No no no- fuck, why now?

 

“Fine.” He answers. And that’s it.

 

“Oh you can’t possibly expect me to believe you now. That’s all you have to say? If you were fine you’d be monologuing.”

 

“Well then no!” Julian hisses, throwing his arms up in defeat and turning to Asra in explosive surrender. “I’m not fucking fine.”

He has to displace his eyepatch as tears begin to trap themselves there before they freely fall.

“I’m a fucking fool. A hack doctor who can’t remember anything, but what I do remember are only things that hurt! And I’m sitting here in a fucking dungeon with you of all people and there’s nothing I can say or do but be upset with myself because this is entirely my fault!”

 

The silence hangs between them, suppressing and unrelentingly heavy, until a steady voice breaks it.

 

“Ilya...”

 

His eyes go wide and it stifles a building, choked up sob.

Asra takes a moment to let the words settle in.

 

“With me of all people? You’re the one who got me here.”

 

Julian huffs.

“I- I know! That’s not what I-“

 

“Not what you what?”

 

“You know I didn’t mean it like that!”

 

“Like what?”

 

Gloved hands pull frustratingly at red hair.

“You know- ugh you’re impossible!”

 

Asra gives him nothing but a cheeky stare.

 

“Why can’t you-“ Julian deflates. His eyes cast downward. “Why can’t you just be sympathetic with me? Why are you trying to make me spell it out?! Not everyone can be like you Asra. Not everyone can pull out their little cards and speak to them and suddenly know what to do or what they need in life! Fine you think I’m dramatic and childish for not being able to let the past go but this is who I am. I can’t help it.”

 

Pursing his lips, Asra sighs.

 

The guards don’t need to know of their personal details, so it’s halfway in the back of his mind to steady the tension and prevent any outbursts.

It’s hard. It’s hard to be sympathetic to Ilya, especially now, but he’s not going to continue to ignore the pressing issues. He can’t.

 

“I never asked you to change how you are,” Asra stares deeply at Julian as the words leave his mouth.

 

“But you never liked the way I am.”

 

It’s still and then suddenly Asra’s in his personal space, invading but ethereal, like if Julian tried to touch him he’d vanish into mist. A hot breath tickles the doctor’s neck as the other speaks, sending shivers rolling down his spine.

 

“I like you.”

 

“Not in the way I wanted you to.”

Ilya feels his breath shallow, and the sticky sweat that forms in his palms under his gloves as he comes to tug his eyepatch back into place. Never fond of the idea of someone so close to it.

 

“Is this not what you wanted, then?” Asra asks, sliding his hand onto Julian’s hip.

 

“You know I did. I know you never took me seriously, like you’re doing right now I’m trying to confront this before we meet our certain demise but- oh, if you’re offering me a pity jackoff I don’t think I could saynotoyou.”

Julian’s last words come out in a quick, airy breath as Asra steps closer to him. He can’t help but notice the soft curls that tickle his chin smell so subtly of smoke and fruit and it’s fueling the heat in his gut. But something seems to have elicited a pause.

 

“I’m offering you only what I can give right now. I know we weren’t the smartest together and I know you still linger on that. We cannot change the actions of the past but we can change how we perceive them and let them affect our future.”

 

Asra’s face is unreadable. Much like it’s practiced, but it would be nice to have an idea of the stirring emotions under the stoic exterior.

 

“Point being?”

 

“Point being, there’s no use worrying over it now. At least not in this very moment. I’d like very much for the both of us to move past this, but that can only happen if we both survive this trial. So let’s focus on that. Face things as they come and not place our mind too far behind or ahead. Okay?”

 

“Right-“ Julian agrees all too hurriedly, looking for a way to escape from Asra’s burning gaze and compromising position. He casually brushes the hand on his hip away and takes a step away from the wall, the chains that bind them rattling as he does. “Okay. My bad for getting so worked up in the first place how silly of me you’ll have to pardon my theatrics you know. I find it’s terribly impossible to control it once it starts and I find myself dragging you into nonsense that-“

 

“Ilya.”

 

“Hm?”

 

The red is still fading from across his nose and cheeks, the dull torchlight kindly hiding the wetness that dries from his eyes. There’s a tightness in his chest, that’s restricting his breathing but he knows it’s only in his mind. He tries not to notice tightness anywhere else.

 

“Are you going to be okay?”

 

Julian gives a weak smile.

“Can’t say for sure, can I? Nobody can predict the future. Not even you.”

 

“Tch,” Asra shakes his head but cannot hide the amused grin that washes over his features. “Not even me...”

 

And although the waves have ebbed away, it’s only for now. It still burns and stings in the deep parts of Julian’s subconscious where it will consume him for another sleepless night. How much it aches to be so close to someone and know they never loved you at all, despite how badly you want them to. And perhaps he thinks he is unloveable as well.

Asra who glitters in purple and red and gold, has only warm eyes and welcoming smiles. Who’s distastes are few and far between- if Asra cannot love him, no one ever may.

 

Better that way, Julian supposes, the less people to drag down with him. But if only his curse healed this kind of wound.


End file.
